


Seven Crows

by Capeless_AntiHero



Series: Et Pecco [1]
Category: Supernatural Novels - Various
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 22:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13961385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capeless_AntiHero/pseuds/Capeless_AntiHero
Summary: A mix of Poems I wrote on the Seven Sins.LustGluttonyGreedSlothPrideEnvyWrath





	Seven Crows

**Author's Note:**

> The first poem is not mine,  
> The rest are. If you like please leave Kudos and Feed Back.  
> I have no edited these so I know some words are likely miss spelled.  
> None of these poems have any actually rhythm to them.  
> Enjoy :)

**_One for the Sorrow_ **

**_Two for Mirth_ **

**_Three for a Wedding_ **

**_and Four for a Birth_ **

**_Five for Silver_ **

**_Six for Gold_ **

**_and Seven for a Secret Never to be Told_ **

* * *

 

**One**  

**-**

**-**

He stood like a 12 hour shift feels,

as if every part of his body is burning but sitting down will only hold him back,

slouched down like the weight of the world rests on his shoulders,

as if the darkness around him in just another obstacle to push through,

Like breathing is an option, and food means just more money spent.

 

He looks like sleep deprivation was a sport and he took the gold,

like each time he moves is another second lost,

like speaking is a waste of his time,

like the wrinkles that linger in his skin are battle scars and time is only opponent.

 

He acts as if this is the life he desired,

that the hours spent standing in dark rooms filled with smoke is nothing to him,

that every time some one suggests that he takes a break is a attacking his person,

that when some one offers to pay for his supper for the night they only pity him,

that he doesn't miss his family every moment he is away.

 

He is _Pride_.

* * *

 

**Two**

-

-

She stood like how starvation looked like,

as if no food had passed her lips in weeks,

like the curve of her stomach was no more than the press of her organs,

as if food was a four letter sin that she wasn't allowed to partake in.

 

She looked like she spent more time in the kitchen than anywhere else,

like she didn't understand what it meant to stop,

like her only solace from the outside world was the sweets deep in the fridge,

like breathing meant pausing between pushing fats between her spit slick lips and she didn't like it,

like weight was only a dress she wore when people judged her.

 

She acts like she has never done any wrong,

that every wasted minute is just another moment spent starving,

that when people stare it's out of jealous,

that when some one asks her to stop they are insulting her,

that when the doctors tell her no it is only a suggestion.

 

She is _Gluttony_.

* * *

 

**Three**

-

-

They stood like they had never tasted the light,

as if the glow of your eyes burned them worse than fire ever could,

body bent leaving no room really see them- arms curled in, head bent down,

as if they were nothing but the shadows that followed others,

like everything you had they wanted.

 

They looked like how disgust feels,

like nothing offered to them was good enough,

like the gold they held was nothing more than a plastic toy,

like pale skin and the curves of their bones were the only way be noticed,

like the shadow that covered them was only meant to prove their worth and not hide it.

 

They acted as if nothing was enough,

as if the moment the world rested in the palm of their hands it wasn't enough,

that things only meant power and there was never enough power,

as if everyone around them had better things,

almost like the universe could be in their embrace but the sight of another sent them running.

 

They are _Envy_.

* * *

 

**Four**

-

-

She stood like violence was made for her,

like war was a word that was used to describe her,

that all that asked for mercy meant nothing,

like the blood that dripped from her knuckles were blessings,

as if the spread of her feet were a challenge and not a stance.

 

She looked like how getting punched in the face felt,

like the color of her skin is just left of bruises from fights she won,

like the curves of her body were there to weaken those who opposed her,

like each bump of her muscle is nothing but another call to war,

like beauty was a word made from pain.

 

She acted like living meant battles,

as if each breath was something you earned,

as if not being an active part of the battle meant you deserved death,

as if lies and slander were a cowards way out,

as if there was a fire that burned inside her that would only be satisfied with danger.

 

She is _Wrath_.

* * *

 

**Five**

-

-

He stood like Sex felt,

body relaxed and back straight drawing all the attention to him,

as if the curve of his throat was where your eyes should focus on always,

like the breath you breathed was only for him,

as if taking your eyes away meant delaying the greatest moment.

 

He looked like dark nights in close contact were his,

like the blue in his eyes stood for the stars,

like the softness of his skin was made for quiet moments,

like the beauty of his body was meant for physical pleasure only,

like there was nothing greater than being alone.

 

He acted how animals lived,

as if there was nothing more to life than physical pleasure and violence,

like people were toys for him to play with and throw away when he was bored,

as if sex was a conquest and virginity the prize,

like nothing mattered if he could not get what he wanted.

 

He is _Lust_.

* * *

 

**Six**

-

-

He stood how hungry looked,

back straight and arms resting on his hips,

eyes always narrowed looking for the next thing that will be his,

as if everything around him was his and his alone,

like things were only there to fill his want.

 

He looked as if a conquer gazing at his riches,

like the green in his eyes only stood for the green of money,

like the tan of his skin came from hours of fighting for power in the deserts,

like the power in his arms was from gathering everything from his wars to keep,

like the glint in his smile was that of danger and power.

 

He acted as if money was the only thing that mattered,

as if the deaths of those below him only meant more money,

as if the blood that hung to his finger tips was only discolored gold,

like murder was justified of it gave power,

like power was a drug and he was the only producer.

 

He is _Greed_.

* * *

 

** Seven **

-

-

They stood how depression felt,

like the bags under their eyes held the world,

the curve of it's spine was nothing but an easier way to rest,

as if the tilt of their head was to be interested and not tired,

like the weight of it's legs kept it in place.

 

They looked like how sleepless nights felt,

like the grey of their skin was from days spent in the dark,

like the tangles of their hair were from hours spent tossing and turning,

like the fog of their blue eyes was from the glare of the light of a phone,

like the need to sleep was over taken by the need to dream.

 

They acted how sleep felt,

as if moving slowly was the only way to live,

like the breath that escaped their lungs was in comfort and not death,

as if the world was pausing for them to rest,

like being awake was a curse that they would bare alone.

 

They are _Sloth_.


End file.
